At last
At last, we are finally in our own home, and thank God everything went a whole pile more smoothly this time than the last three times I have moved.
The last time I moved, I was coming out from Scotland to Australia, was 6 months pregnant and was completely exhausted from having to organise everything at the Scotland end (flat refurnishing and redecoration, flat rental, shipping of worldly goods), plus the emotional trauma of farewells to family and friends.
The time before that was a logistical disaster, with the vendors not vacating the flat we were supposed to be moving into, the taxi failing to turn up to take me to the airport to fly down south to rendezvous with D, me injuring my eye and ending up in hospital, the central heating boiler breaking down in sub-zero temperatures, the cowboy plumber who turned up to repair it managing to electrocute himself, and a string of other bizarre and distressing obstacles.
The time before that we moved from a dodgy rental into our own first home, and the rental owner's wide-boy boyfriend was a real nasty piece of work. We had discovered that despite us paying the rent faithfully on time every month, they had not bothered to use that cash to pay the mortgage, and the building society were in the process of repossessing the house we lived in. The building society had not been informed that the property was rented out, and due to a loophole of UK law, they were entitled to evict us from the property. Stress city. We got out just in time, but the Dodgy Owners never gave us back our deposit, big surprise. Plus on the hottest day of the year, D broke down transporting a whole pile of our stuff on the M40 in a hired van, and the AA never turned up until I called them for the sixth time in hysterics and told them my father-in-law had a heart condition so they had better pull their finger out.
Anyway, this time everything went amazingly well. I still can't believe it. And despite a string of 37 degree plus days, the actual day we shifted was a pleasant 25 degrees, meaning that my pregnant-non-lifting duty of sitting in the shade with a clipboard ticking lists and barking instructions was perfectly doable. The only hiccup was the vendors' bankers not showing up for the settlement meeting, but that only delayed matters very slightly. And now we are finally in our new pad, surrounded by cardboard, awash with relief.
The last time I moved, I was coming out from Scotland to Australia, was 6 months pregnant and was completely exhausted from having to organise everything at the Scotland end (flat refurnishing and redecoration, flat rental, shipping of worldly goods), plus the emotional trauma of farewells to family and friends.
The time before that was a logistical disaster, with the vendors not vacating the flat we were supposed to be moving into, the taxi failing to turn up to take me to the airport to fly down south to rendezvous with D, me injuring my eye and ending up in hospital, the central heating boiler breaking down in sub-zero temperatures, the cowboy plumber who turned up to repair it managing to electrocute himself, and a string of other bizarre and distressing obstacles.
The time before that we moved from a dodgy rental into our own first home, and the rental owner's wide-boy boyfriend was a real nasty piece of work. We had discovered that despite us paying the rent faithfully on time every month, they had not bothered to use that cash to pay the mortgage, and the building society were in the process of repossessing the house we lived in. The building society had not been informed that the property was rented out, and due to a loophole of UK law, they were entitled to evict us from the property. Stress city. We got out just in time, but the Dodgy Owners never gave us back our deposit, big surprise. Plus on the hottest day of the year, D broke down transporting a whole pile of our stuff on the M40 in a hired van, and the AA never turned up until I called them for the sixth time in hysterics and told them my father-in-law had a heart condition so they had better pull their finger out.
Anyway, this time everything went amazingly well. I still can't believe it. And despite a string of 37 degree plus days, the actual day we shifted was a pleasant 25 degrees, meaning that my pregnant-non-lifting duty of sitting in the shade with a clipboard ticking lists and barking instructions was perfectly doable. The only hiccup was the vendors' bankers not showing up for the settlement meeting, but that only delayed matters very slightly. And now we are finally in our new pad, surrounded by cardboard, awash with relief.
posted by MotherFluker @ 8:42 pm
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